I had just arrived in London. A bit depressed, I was looking for a job. Mr Melancholy reminds me of that time.

That night, no cars in the streets. It snowed on Paris. In an old album, I've reviewed, amused, my first picture of a skull.

 

One morning in Reykjavik, I started working the modelling clay. I had only one idea. Redo the little men that I saw in my dreams.

 

Is it possible to make trendy pictures with faded flowers? I willingly admit that I don't give a damn to know the answer to this question.

 

The fairy is a gift. The daughter of a friend gave it to me when I left Moscow. Today, the girl would be in the choruses of the Mariinsky.

 

I like playing with light. She is my source of strange geometries. My sea air. My Photoshop. My madness.

 

The painting was at the foot of the bin. Why get rid of a woman who knows to dance? I have no explanation.